Blue Paint
by Silico
Summary: Damian finishes an old family portrait, and mourns the death of Richard Grayson. (Based off Batman and Robin #40, nu52)


_This is based off the final issue of the Batman &amp; Robin run, where Damian finished an old family portrait. I thought it was a touching gesture, though there was a lot left to be covered.._

* * *

The blue on Damian's pallet was too dark. He added a dab of white, and it swiftly became too pale and unsaturated. It wasn't an ugly color, but closer to Bruce's eyes than his current subject's. Damian sucked his lower lip in between his teeth and pinched down on the soft inner flesh, narrowing his eyes in concentration as he studied one of several reference photos he had in front of him. Not that he really needed them.

The paining he was working on had originally been started by another artist months ago. Years ago? It was hard to say. The family had gathered, all five of them. Father, Grayson, Todd, Drake, and Damian himself. He remembered the day had been rife with arguments over petty things like breakfast, and where they should be allowed to stand. Damian had tried to expel Jason from the premises from the get-go, and Grayson had been dozing off in the wingback chair until they had kicked him out of it.

They had been interrupted, as they usually were. Damian had forgotten all about the painting until two days ago, when he'd found it covered in a white sheet and tucked into a distant corner of the seldom-used study. Half-painted and long untouched, Damian had stared at it for a good hour recalling the day.

Then he'd contemplated throwing it off the rooftop, or into the fireplace. Or maybe he'd jettison it into the sun.

Because it wasn't _fair._

It wasn't fair that he was back, and Grayson was not.

It wasn't fair that he hadn't been around to save his brother, as he _surely_ would have.

Damian had been surprised, at first, when he realized that his eldest brother hadn't been a part of his 'rescue' party. But nobody said anything of his absence, and Damian immediately assumed the bothersome man was off on some even higher-stakes mission. _Good_, he had thought. _Having to hug one person is enough for a day._

Distractions had arisen, the day had to be saved (multiple times) and still, nobody mentioned Grayson.

They went to the graveyard to destroy his headstone, and in his own anger Damian didn't notice an even newer one tucked into some rose bushes facing the far field. Nobody pointed it out, either.

The realization came to him softly, and he tried to rationalize. There was no new memorial case in the Cave. No, that he would have noticed when he was removing his Robin costume.

So Damian casually mentioned him one morning at breakfast.

"Scrambled? This is Grayson's preferred morning egg, not mine. May I have over-easy next time, Alfred?" He asked, as he watched the elderly man. His face became pinched, although only for the briefest of moments. Damian knew it wasn't in reaction to the eggs. Alfred cast a look in Bruce's direction, catching the man's eyes just over his Sunday newspaper.

"Very well, Master Damian," Alfred said.

"Thank you," he replied. That had been all he needed.

Bruce had lifted his newspaper up then, and still, nothing was said about Grayson.

What Damian hadn't expected was to find out as he did. He'd found his old laptop on the desk in his untouched bedroom, and after plugging it in it had booted right up. Almost instantly he closed out of his email, as the past year's messages began to flood in with an annoyingly insistent _pingpingpingping._ Opening up a browser, he decided to see what he could find out about the city's last year.

Without even having to type in the name, Richard Grayson popped up everywhere. From news articles to blogposts, the name was on everyone's tongues except his family's. NIGHTWING EXPOSED, read the very first one, and Damian mostly expected something tongue in cheek. He hadn't expected to see a video still of his battered brother in the grip of Wonder Woman's evil twin; his mask in her hands. Next to it was another image grab with a photo that contained all his personal identification information.

Damian felt ice run through his veins. _This_ scenario had never even run through his head.

After the initial shock wore off, and he could once again move the fists that had curled into claws, Damian's research continued. He read article after article, found a video on Liveleak that the still had come from. It nearly made him throw up. He read an article that stated that Lex Luther and some other members of the Justice League, including Batman himself, had attempted a rescue but were only able to recover a body. Funeral services were held at Wayne Manor. Many people attended. Many people protested outside the gates, too.

There were few more details of note that he could find; just fluff and speculation. A quick trip to the Cave's computer confirmed most of the details, but none of it felt real until he went to the graveyard. The marker was white marble. _Son, Brother, Friend, Protector. Fly Free. _

But what did a stone even mean? He'd knocked his own down just days prior. He wanted to knock this one down, too. He wanted to march up to his father and grab him by his shiny daytime lapels and demand answers. But he didn't, just like they continued to avoid mention of Grayson at all.

So the blue had to be _perfect. _It had to be. He started over, digging into his box of paints and mixing like a chemist until it was just right. Only then did he finally apply the color, and for a moment it felt like he was bringing his brother back to life. But the paint would dry eventually, and lose the glassy sheen that made life seem tangible.

When he finished, Damian left the painting out for Bruce to find.

It was already hanging up over the mantle in the main living room later that day. Damian studied it, his hands clasped behind his back and his head tilted upward to take it in. After a little while, a strong hand landed gently on his shoulder.

"You did a good job," Bruce said, his voice deep but quiet.

"I know," Damian said, lifting his chin slightly. "I'm certain you did the best you could too, Father."

End.


End file.
